


Second chances are a dessert you can't pass up

by littlemisstpk



Series: Earworms [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akiteru is a hopeless romantic, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Fluff and Smut, M/M, POV Third Person Limited, Pining, Power Bottom Tenma, Reunions, Time Skips, volleyball idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:06:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23272198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemisstpk/pseuds/littlemisstpk
Summary: After finding his soulmate in high school and being too afraid to speak up, Akiteru finds him again by chance when he watches his brother play at Nationals, five years later.
Relationships: Tsukishima Akiteru/Udai Tenma
Series: Earworms [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1496810
Comments: 22
Kudos: 315
Collections: Haikyuu!! NSFW Big Bang 2020!!, stories that touched me





	Second chances are a dessert you can't pass up

**Author's Note:**

> A special thanks to my beta [yikescaninot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yikescaninot/pseuds/yikescaninot) for helping me get this to not only a readable level, but something I'm actually quite proud of.
> 
> Finally, to Chelle, who yelled about akiten with me even when the writing got tough. [Your art is amazing.](https://twitter.com/spicysandmich/status/1242706969267486720?s=19)

Tsukishima Akiteru is not a dumb man. He will be the first to admit that he is a little bit of a coward, and that sometimes leads to some regrettable actions, but he is far from dumb. That title is reserved for his soulmate, who never searched him out while it was easy. 

He gets his first clue of his soulmate's identity during a tournament in his second year of middle school, some overwrought guitar-driven mess of a song that he would never have picked for himself. He had read all the stories, and knows that hearing other people's music in his head means that he has a soulmate, and he can't keep the smile from his face at the sounds. The public nature of the event makes it so that Akiteru can't place who his match is, but that doesn't matter — just knowing that there is someone out there just for him is enough to send him over the moon with happiness and possibilities. 

(When Akiteru gushes about soulmates to Kei, and later his friend Tadashi, often and with relish, he embellishes some of the points to hide the pain of not being recognized.)

It's not until his second year of high school that he narrows down his options of soulmates. There's about ten fresh first years who join the volleyball club, and all throughout the three-on-threes, Akiteru smiles as he barely recognizes Death Note's opening, an anime that his mother hates being on when Kei's around. His natural preference is for acoustic music and dreamy lyrics about love. His tastes are decidedly different than his brother's–Kei mimes vomiting every time that he hears Akiteru play his music out loud, apparently disgusted by the idea of love. That only makes him play it even louder.

Practice after practice, Akiteru's eyes gravitate toward the small boy with unruly black hair, truly too short to be anything more than another student to pad the club's ranks. Still, there's a determination in this first year's eyes that isn't matched by anything else, and it sends shivers down Akiteru's spine every time he meets his gaze. Every time Akiteru forces his eyes away from the sight before him, somehow, some way, he finds his way back. 

Ushigawa, a fellow second year and regular, leans into Akiteru's space as he watches Shorty aim a serve. "It's too bad he won't amount to anything. There's only so much that a good jump can make up for in high school volleyball." 

Akiteru silently agrees, but despite his small amount of pessimism, he can't help but smile at his determination. 

It's during a scrimmage, Shorty on the other side of the net, when Akiteru figures it out. It's all the spares playing, those poor souls who won't truly be given a chance at wearing a uniform and officially play unless they do something truly spectacular to catch the coach's attention. Shorty rotates up to the front row, just diagonal to where Akiteru stands in the center.

The plan is obvious: use his height to roof the smaller attackers on the other side. Akiteru is a stronger attacker than blocker, but with the majority of the tallest guys playing directly under Ukai's watchful gaze just one shortened court over, it's unlikely that any action will garner him the attention he wants.

As Shorty runs up to prepare for his jump, Akiteru signals Namata to form a two-man block, and when his left hand stings at the successful block, he hears the angriest guitars filling his brain. Shorty stands there, livid, and it takes everything within him for Akiteru not to stop and stare, jaw agape. 

Instead, he feels the thoughtless joke escape his lips before he can rein them back in. "That was easy, my little brother is taller than you and he's nine." 

Namata doubles over laughing as the screams overtake the guitars in Akiteru's brain, and the din is nearly enough for him to cradle his head from the painful auditory onslaught. The pounding in his head is wonderful, life affirming, and torturous — Akiteru is in heaven. 

The glare levelled in his direction sticks to his soul, burrows under his skin, and stirs his body into action, and he feels guilty when he imagines Shorty on top of him, pinned to the floor. 

Knowing who his match is doesn't make anything easier; if anything, it makes his predicament even worse, spurring his sixteen year old body into action without his consent. The growing fear within him might prevent him from approaching his soulmate, but it doesn't prevent the daydreams that makes Akiteru take himself in hand after most practices.

Akiteru finds out Shorty's name — Udai Tenma — and as he rolls around the sounds of their names mixed together in his brain, he looks over towards where the first years have set up to do spiking drills, and his mouth goes dry. Udai's brows furrow together until they are very nearly a unibrow, and there's silence in Akiteru's head until the moment that Udai runs toward the set ball into a breathtaking jump. Akiteru's heart beats in time with the quick tempo of electric guitars when he lands softly on the wooden floor. It's almost enough for him to trip over his feet as he runs laps around the gym. 

As pleasant as it feels, skipped heartbeats become the norm as Akiteru fill their shared brainspace with acoustic music, waxing philosophical about the true meaning of love. Udai doesn't seem to notice Akiteru stealing frequent glances from across the club room, because his attention is aimed at his homework, an ever-present sketchbook, or even the first year friends he made as they bonded over surviving Coach's brutal military-style training. Still, he stays cautious and tries not to linger with his looks in case his peers and senpai notice — he would never hear the end of it if he was caught. 

The few times they are paired together for drills is pleasant, mostly because time has given Akiteru the opportunity to become good at pretending his feelings aren't real. Akiteru's smiles are natural and genuine, and he almost has to clutch at his heart when Udai's intense gaze softens and his attractiveness really shines through. 

This game of make-believe, while necessary in order to function at practice without giving himself away before he's ready, has already started to have unintended effects. Kei has started to believe that he's playing regularly, and he hasn't had the courage to correct this false belief, mostly because it feels good to be adored. It also doesn't hurt that Kei has started telling his own stories about his volleyball club, which alleviates some of Akiteru's lingering worries about his brother and his ability to make friends. Still, it's difficult to think about consequences when the coach's idea of an easy drill still leaves Akiteru fighting for air and several first years losing their lunches outside. 

The lies to Kei become easier, until it almost feels like the stories are becoming true. It feels like just as much of a lie every day he waits to tell Udai his feelings, but apparently Akiteru's new comfortable mindspace is that unsettling not-quite-right feeling of juggling too many things for far too long. He knows that everything is destined to crash and burn before him; he only hopes that he can last until he leaves high school and is out of view before it happens so no one is the wiser. 

As Akiteru enters his final year of high school, whatever lingering optimism he holds about making even the bench evaporates as quickly as water boiling in a kettle. It's bittersweet to watch as Udai is given his jersey shortly after Golden Week. Akiteru is overjoyed that his soulmate is given such a great opportunity, but it stings that he's not there with him. They were supposed to stand on the court together, proud and daring, a warning to all their rival teams. The jealousy and pride curdled together forms a pit in his stomach, and it's difficult to swallow the mass of emotion and ignore it like he had been. 

Their practices become even more separate with Udai's promotion to the regular team. Akiteru is no longer delegated to simply being a ball boy, as he's allowed to practice drills as part of the third team, but that is still not enough to wear a uniform. Bitterness is a taste that lingers in his mouth, no matter how often he shoves sweets or spicy food in an attempt to cover the sticky, acrid film around his tongue. 

Even worse, since his little bastard of a brother has finally made a friend when Akiteru had nearly given up hope, he now has six star-struck eyes between the two of them waiting impatiently for every single word of his lies. It makes Akiteru want to lean back against the battered lockers in the club room and forget about everything but the music playing in his head. He wants to stay in the only place that he can spend time with his soulmate without that restless feeling in his limbs urging him to run away from it all. 

If the angry music playing in their shared headspace is anything to go by, pressure mounts increasingly over the course of the school year on both sides of the bond. Akiteru still dutifully cheers his hardest at the Spring High preliminaries, and despite Kei's incessant questions about coming to watch his brother play, Akiteru is still too cowardly to face the truth and correct the lie that has gone on for far too long. Karasuno making it to prefectural semifinals, and all the burdens that come with that gift, are enough to suffocate the entire team. 

It's when Akiteru cheers for Ushigawa to make a nice serve that he notices the quick flash of something reflecting in the stands directly across the way. When he sees Kei's crestfallen face across the court, it takes everything for Akiteru to stay upright and not faint at the fear of his world crashing down around him. The rally goes on, and the gym erupts in excitement as Udai makes another inspiring spike to win them the point, inching closer to victory set to a punk soundtrack. Akiteru's worst fears are coming true, and the only ones who notice are his brother, Tadashi, and another boy he doesn't know. 

The rest of the game is a quiet, lonely blur before he robotically makes his way home. Kei watches him as he takes off his shoes in the genkan, but instead of the enthusiastic greeting that helped fuel the grueling practices throughout his high school career, Kei simply turns away without a word. Listless, Akiteru throws his bag haphazardly on to the floor as he stumbles into his bedroom. 

Akiteru can't even be bothered to fully close the door before he smashes the evidence of his middle school triumphs to the ground before collapsing among the mess he creates, the wracking sobs punctuating his breakdown. It doesn't matter anymore — he's failed as a brother, a son, and as a general human being. It's fitting that he stay there on the floor, surrounded by the mess of lies he's created for himself. 

He retires from the club the following day, and refuses to watch any game from their nationals run as it is televised. It hurts too much to be anywhere near the sport that wrecked his teenage years. Kei stops greeting him at the door, curious about what tale Akiteru will tell him, but instead, only emerges from his bedroom at mealtimes. His studies, and the thought of passing his entrance exams to escape this self-made hell, gets him through the worst of it. 

He copes by flooding his mind with music that matches his mood, and Akiteru replays the same twenty songs shoved onto an mp3 player to block out anything else coming into his brain. He can't care about what kinds of things Udai is trying to put in their shared brainspace, or the fact that he's listening to his limited playlist without headphones on. Akiteru can only focus on the fact that Kei has closed himself off to any apology, and greets his older brother with a cold scowl on his face. And that's only if Akiteru's lucky enough to run into Kei before he runs away and locks himself away, out of reach. 

Graduation comes and goes, and while Akiteru holds his piece of paper summarizing the last three years of his life, he watches as families and soulmates embrace. He crushes the scroll case in his right hand as he watches Udai and the other new third years leave the ceremony until the piece of paper within is crumpled within its protective casing. His left automatically covers the second button on his gakuran, right where his chest aches, and it takes everything within him to not rip it off and run after his soulmate, the cheesiest and most cringe worthy action he could possibly accomplish. Instead, he watches a shaggy head leave the school for the last time. 

When Akiteru gets home, he flops backwards onto the bed, and clutches at his gakuran. In a fit of frustration, he throws the offending article across the room hard enough that the buttons clatter against the wall, landing somewhere behind his desk. The heaviness of two full years of wasted opportunity settles deep inside his chest, and if Akiteru had any idea where Udai lived, he would be running full tilt in that direction. He's not that lucky — Akiteru can only pinpoint it as nowhere near his house. Instead, he starts sorting his essentials to make his escape to Sendai far more smooth. 

Dorm life is a breath of fresh air and suffocating all at the same time. It's a relief to be out on his own, trying to find his identity as a person apart from his family. He's chosen classes that are later in the day, stays up all night playing video games, all while no one yells at him to do his homework. It still gets done , but that is more because the library becomes his second home to escape the ever present music coming from the other rooms. 

It's not every song that does it, but just enough of what's popular reminds Akiteru of missed opportunities throughout high school. Almost every time that he hears any of that music coming from outside his brain, he gets a flash of strong emotion surging through him, intensely hopeful and full of regret. It's frequent enough that he becomes known as the dorm grump, and even though his roommates retreat into their headphones, it's not without whispers and grumbles directed at him. 

Eventually, the music stops playing in his brain, and even though the emptiness is deafening at times, he is immediately aware of when Udai is near. It's not that uncommon of an occurrence —Akiteru's university is in the middle of Shiratorizawa, Aoba Johsai and the main tournament venue, all within his range, and Karasuno is a strong enough school to garner frequent practice matches. Every time he hears it, it's a soothing reminder of how good his life could be, even if he doesn't deserve it. 

The trees’ leaves change colours, and they eventually fall to the ground. Akiteru's visits home for Golden Week, Bon and New Year's are the same all the way through—Kei's bedroom door blocking him from any sort of forgiveness. Through it all, his ability to block out other's music deteriorates until he's the angry, entitled old man who yells at the sky for some peace and quiet, when he's not forcibly turning down the volume on other people's devices. 

Even worse, what little comforting music he had has completely stopped. 

His misery comes to a head when he returns home for Bon in his second year of university. His legs are too long to be able to swing when dangling off the edge of the deck like they could when he was a kid, but Akiteru slumps over to cradle his face between his hands and lets out a groan of frustration. This is by far the worst visit yet, and Kei has only gotten more obtuse and contrary in the summer sun, far beyond Akiteru's experience of being thirteen on summer break. 

The door slides open behind him, and Akiteru turns around to find his mother closing the door behind her. When she sits down beside her son, her toes skim the driveway, and her eyes are level with Akiteru's chin.

"Sweetie, what happened?" His mother places her hand on his shoulder, and Akiteru leans into her touch. 

"Kei won't talk to me, and I can't find my soulmate anymore." His voice is dull and almost robotic. 

She laughs softly. "Kei is a thirteen year old who wants nothing more than to butt heads with people while looking 'cool.'" With a sigh, she continues. "And soulmates —they take a lot more work than the stories say." 

Akiteru mumbles under his breath, "Yeah, I'm finding that out." 

She pushes him so that making eye contact is a little easier. “If you can’t find your soulmate, what can you do to make yourself happy while you look for them?”

There’s a soft smile and a hopeful look on her face, and Akiteru sees his own normal optimism reflected in her face. “You take after me, for better or worse, and Kei takes after your father. It won’t be easy, but —”

She turns her head, rises to her feet quickly, whips open the door, and marches towards the interior of the house. Even with several walls between him and his mother, Akiteru can clearly hear her yell at his brother for stealing strawberries off the counter. For the first time in a very long time, Akiteru smiles a true smile and laughter escapes him.

He finds a volleyball team near his apartment the day after he returns to Sendai, and it’s hard to tell whether the aching in his chest is because volleyball is intrinsically linked with memories of Udai and his ruffled hair giving the court a certain kind of infectious energy, or simply because of the fact that he’s just that out of shape. With every block he makes, every ball he spikes, his studies become that much easier, until the heart-rending pain of his loss lessens to a mild discomfort.

When he gets his degree, there are only two things that keep the day from being his perfect day: Kei pulls a face as if a skunk had walked in front of him as soon as he gets within twenty feet of Akiteru and that will be immortalized on film, and Udai is still nowhere to be found.

Working as a salaryman is a new challenge, and it often leaves Akiteru exhausted so that it’s a struggle to get up in the morning, let alone make it to volleyball every week. Still, despite the grind to push paperwork to sell paper, he lives half his working life using English to make sales to foreigners until he's somewhere approaching fluent. There’s something satisfying in being able to claw his way out of negative thoughts through his work in spite of all the challenges that come with being a young adult newly unleashed onto the working world. It's enough that he's objectively seen as a success, even if that guilty gremlin in his chest says differently. 

Despite everything, Akiteru's heart still clenches when the wrong song comes through the speakers where he is, and he's left innumerable grocery runs half fulfilled in his haste to leave the store quickly. It takes what seems like eternity to catch his breath, but when the silence in his brain returns, it's familiar and comforting in a way Akiteru never would have expected at the beginning of high school. 

It's when he returns home for Bon that things really turn around. Kei has just returned home from a training camp in Tokyo, and the uncomfortable aura surrounding his brother drives Akiteru to pick up a volleyball and head outside. Even if volleyball failed him once, it would be his salvation now. 

He's barely made it to the basketball net before Akiteru hears the door open behind him. Kei sits down, in the same spot as Akiteru's own epiphany two years before, and stares sullenly at the ground before him. It's surprising, with all the emotional distance and social awkwardness that only Kei manages to exude, but it's almost nice to see his brother almost willingly within ten meters of him. 

"Wow, it's been a while, Kei. Even when I do come home, if it's not a meal, you usually lock yourself in your room." A soft smile creeps up on Akiteru's face.

Kei turns to his older brother, and Akiteru recognizes the listless look on his face as the same one that occupied his own at the beginning of university. "Really?" With a noncommittal sigh, Kei turns his attention back to the spot where there is a cluster of weeds poking through the pavement. 

Akiteru laughs under his breath. "Your away games must have been rough if you're like this." 

"They were normal," Kei mumbles under his breath. 

Akiteru turns towards the basketball net in order to hide the smile creeping across his face. "You've got rough written all over your face." He starts setting the ball, rebounding it off the backboard, and revels in the steady rhythm that the soft thumps of contact create. 

There's a brief moment in the relative silence that Akiteru can almost pretend that he is a full seven years younger, and that Kei still looks at him with wondrous eyes. Instead, Akiteru hears a few aborted attempts at beginning at starting a sentence. 

"How do you know if fate has chosen the right soulmate for you?" Kei finally raises his head to make eye contact with his brother as Akiteru catches the volleyball for the last time. 

He spins the ball around in his hands, and a bittersweet smile takes over Akiteru's face. "Honestly, I don't know how fate knows who is the best person to complement you, because my soulmate doesn't know I exist." He squeezes the ball just hard enough to make his knuckles discolour. "But what I do know is that it's not sunshine and rainbows once you meet your soulmate, there's a lot of work involved with them too." 

Kei looks surprised at Akiteru's frank confession, and he lets out a soft sound at that. Akiteru turns away, facing the basketball net. "But, just 'cause it's hard, doesn't mean it's not worth it. I'm going to keep trying to reach out until I'm in a place where I'm satisfied." 

This time, when Akiteru passes rebound after rebound, the silence is comfortably new. Kei is no longer the kid who worshiped the ground his older brother walked on, but a force that is just beginning to eclipse the accomplishments of his brother, in spite of everything that has happened. For the first time since he graduated high school, Akiteru holds hope that things will work out. 

* * *

He's doing his best to sneak in and watch Kei's game without his little brother's knowledge, but Akiteru is thwarted by a blonde woman nearly half his height. She pulls him behind her by the ear, as if she were an overbearing grandmother rather than around his own age. It takes every bit of athleticism in his body to stay on his feet and keep his ear firmly planted on his head. 

"Look at who I found skulking around! A Shiratorizawa spy!" The blonde woman turns towards a group behind the familiar black banner at the front of the gaggle of Karasuno students, and gives Akiteru's ear an extra tug for good measure. 

He pulls down the mask he's using to obscure his face, while pulling off the sunglasses. 

"I'm Tsukishima's older brother!" Akiteru is trying to quickly explain his presence at the game, but with the commotion in the stands, he's sure to be found out, and his relationship with his brother is still tenuous at best. He dives quickly behind the banner, and for the first time ever, he finds the black scrap of fabric to be a comforting cover to conceal his presence, something not available five years ago. 

"Talk about a difference in personality," the blonde woman mumbles more to herself than anything. She turns in his direction, and offers her hand to help him up. "I'm Tanaka Saeko, my little brother is one of the regulars, too." 

Akiteru takes Tanaka's hand, and hoists himself to his feet. He's mildly surprised at how steady she keeps herself on her feet, and he turns to take in the action before him. It's simple warm-up drills — ones that he's done many times himself, and watched many more times after that. 

Beyond watching his brother being comfortable on the high school stage in a way that Akiteru was never given the opportunity to be, his eyes gravitate towards the orange haired kid zipping around the court in sheer nervous excitement. It's eerily familiar — the jersey number, the intense energy, the height . T he hairstyle may have been the same, the colour flags the only difference between Udai, but the lack of punk music jabs him in the heart. 

It's an exciting game, and Akiteru ends up colour-commentating for the women beside him. It's nice to watch a game and explain strategy, as most of his experiences behind this particular banner were with his fellow club mates who knew everything already. When the tiny manager mentions how Kei is getting into the game far more than normal, despite Akiteru's questions, he knows things will turn out okay with the power of friendship by his brother's side. 

A few moments later, whatever wall he had built with the best of intentions finally crumbles as Kei smacks the spike to the ground on the other side. Kei lets out a triumphant cry, louder than anything that Akiteru has heard since his younger brother stopped having loud tantrums as a kid. The fact that it's about  _ volleyball,  _ something that Akiteru ruined for him years ago, is enough for the tears to start to flow. It's overwhelming, yes, but it really starts to sink in that he hasn't ruined volleyball for his brother, he has friends on the court, and Kei finally reveals how deeply he cares about the world around him. Akiteru can almost,  _ almost,  _ live vicariously through his brother. 

He doesn't make any move to staunch the flow of tears streaming down his face, watching as the tiny, feral libero starts chewing on Kei's shoulder and their bald wing spiker does a number on his kidneys. They're tears of bittersweet nostalgia of events that could have been, if the stories he had told his brother were actually true. 

He ignores the questioning looks of his senpai and Tanaka, and instead pours all his focus into the game at hand. It's thrilling to watch the rest of the team slowly pull together, slowly but surely eking out point after point until Shiratorizawa is left to scramble defensively. Akiteru has been on the receiving end of enough of these mind games in the past five years that he knows exactly what Kei is up to; pretending to not care and then using that carelessness to trap his opponent is aggravating to experience, but hilarious to watch. 

It's in the fifth set when Karasuno's system finally collapses. It's a wonky block that stops the game, and it leaves Kei cradling his hand as their manager rushes him out of the court. Akiteru rushes down to meet his brother, and despite a caustic comment and a half-hearted glare aimed at him, Kei doesn't protest too much at Akiteru being there, and even lets him follow into the examination room. 

Watching Kei bargain with the medic to find his way back onto the court is surprising: even when he was just starting out and told his brother every detail of every practice, Kei hated being uncomfortable. Kei winces as the medic tapes his hand until it resembles a mutated, white lobster claw which draws a sympathetic jolt of pain through Akiteru's own hand. Despite this, there's hope drowning out the lingering voice reminding him of his inadequacies as sees Kei rush back to the game, hoping it's not all over. 

Akiteru watches the rest of the game from the doorway on the main level, and delights in telling anyone who is nearby about his amazing little brother. 

* * *

After the game, Akiteru follows Tanaka and the rest of the adult cheering squad. They all had gone to Karasuno, just in different years, and as they reminisce about the good times in the building, the lingering sting of bittersweet memories lift. It's not enough to distract his mind from wandering towards Udai and the extreme fuck up that was his third year, but it's good, and it's cheery, even as music plays around them. 

Akiteru is two beers in when Tanaka perks up to some English song playing over the sound system. 

"Ooh, I like this one," she exclaims, the banjos in the introduction setting an almost comforting tone. 

He stiffens as his brain adjusts to the language, and the lyrics that filter through cut him deep. The harmonies break through whatever remains of the armour he had erected, and sets off a fight-or-flight instinct within him. Despite feeling an overwhelming urge to flee, Akiteru is frozen in place, left scrambling to remember how to breathe. 

Tanaka looks shocked, and her questioning, "Are you okay?," is enough for Akiteru to break himself out of whatever spell is holding him in place and allows him to run towards fresh air. 

He's only able to get a couple of breaths of relatively fresh air before the tears start to fall, memories of watching Udai from afar and being too chicken to do anything about it when he had the chance. It's not like a completely hopeless situation can't turn around — Kei is finally talking to him willingly, and that kid's special power is holding a grudge — but the pessimistic portion of his brain that Akiteru tries to defy at every turn insists that there's no hope for him reuniting with Udai. 

He's interrupted by Tanaka softly punching his shoulder. "Are you all right?" As she leans back against the wall, she continues, "You don't have to explain, but I'll listen if you want?" 

Akiteru shakes his head. "I was just blindsided, that's all." He wipes away the lingering tears on his cheeks. "That song reminded me of my soulmate, and how I didn't confess to him when I had a chance. I have no idea where he went to after graduation; that's the kicker." 

Tanaka elbows Akiteru in the side. "You know, he's a complete dumbass for not searching you out either? It's not just you who's idiotic here." Just as Akiteru levels a glare in her direction, Tanaka perks up. "Hey, let's go back inside and get some food before the old guys eat it all up. Those wasabi leaves looked amazing." 

Akiteru's heart clenches in panic as he realizes that he might be missing out on his favourite food simply because he's being overly emotional. He hears Tanaka’s laughter grow more and more distant as he rushes back to the table and immediately loads his plate with the majority of the dish. 

* * *

He rushes in late, but he finds the Karasuno cheering section relatively easily despite the size of the Tokyo arena. The stadium is much larger than the one in Sendai, and the atmosphere is electric. Akiteru entertains a brief thought about whether it was this exciting five years ago. 

It's nice, the role reversal, with Akiteru cheering on Kei like he was the younger sibling, and revels in their third win of the tournament, and the final victory in the decades-long Battle of the Garbage Dump. 

After breaking for lunch, Akiteru is just about to re-enter the complex with Tanaka and the rest of the Karasuno cheer squad when he catches the unmistakable sound of distorted electric guitars playing a soothing melody, featuring lyrics about love and regret. In high school, he would have chosen something a little more acoustic, but Akiteru doesn't mind — it means that Udai is nearby. Even though his breath hitches at the return of the music after four and a half years, Akiteru tries his best to maintain a poker face, just in case he's wrong and delusional. 

Just as suddenly as the music returns, it cuts away, and Akiteru turns towards the voice he wasn't sure he would hear again. 

"Tsukishima-san, is that you? It's been forever." 

Shocked, Akiteru takes in the new Udai. If he had passed the smaller man on the street, Akiteru wouldn't have recognized him. While still shorter than him, the height gap is less than he remembered. The slightly shaggy hair that just bordered unkempt had grown out into loose waves that come just past his shoulders and frames his face. Akiteru's chest constricts as the new look not only suits Udai, but highlights the new gleam in his eye that was absent in his intense gazes across the net, the ones that served as spank bank fodder for the majority of high school. 

He's not the only one who is on the brink of a meltdown. Akiteru can hide his feelings relatively well for longer than most, an unfortunate side effect of living his entire high school years lying about one thing or another; Tanaka is an open book, and he can see her own high school crush coming back with a vengeance. He doesn't choose to hide his amusement at her predicament, and instead, lets her deflect Udai's intimidating attention onto her. 

(She gets Udai back in the best way possible, when she unleashes his number one fan on him without his knowledge.) 

It's a mild shock to hear that Udai is no longer playing, but as the trio ascends to the spectator area, Udai lingers closer to Akiteru than to Tanaka. It's a little awkward, with the tangible tension between the pair taking on a life of its own until Tanaka quirks her eyebrow in their direction. Udai raises his own as he tries to glean some meaning from silent signals that he's never had to learn, until he turns toward Akiteru. 

"So your little brother is playing too, Tsukishima-san?" 

Akiteru wants to scream with all his being that honorifics aren't necessary, that they're soulmates, but it isn’t a shock for him to find out that even five years later, he's still a coward. Instead, he takes the peace offering for what it is.

"You bet." He turns back to where Udai climbs the stairs a single step behind him, and gives a half smile. "He's good." 

Akiteru initially takes a seat in the front row, leaving the spot to his left open for Udai. Before he can beckon Udai into the spot he had saved, Akiteru notices that the other man grips at the safety railing with a tight enough hold that his knuckles turn bone white under the pressure. His brain is silent, and that concerns Akiteru just enough to be a nuisance. Instead, he hoists himself out of the folding seat and takes his place next to his soulmate. 

Tanaka’s taiko group start their routine, and Udai spins around quickly, eyes glittering with wonder. It's enough that if Akiteru hadn't spent the majority of high school bombarded by punk music, he'd tease the man about his high school crush. 

Instead, he laughs as he explains, "Karasuno wouldn't have won their second round if it wasn't for them. The other team had quite the cheering squad, I heard." Akiteru leans on the railing until he is eye level with Udai, still trying to process the atmosphere. 

In between rallies, Akiteru catches Udai leafing through the tournament pamphlet, trying to get as much information on both their teams as possible. He's unbearably cute as he reacts to each of the rallies, watching as Hinata races around the court like some feverish demon possessed with insurmountable stamina, and as the Kamomedai ace tools their blockers. 

"You know, the other ace reminds me a lot of how you were." Akiteru smiles as Udai flips to the page, and lights up at the words, 'Youth Camp'. 

"You thought I was youth camp worthy?" There's a sparkle in Udai's eye as he gives an adorable grin beside the picture of the Little Giant playing below them. 

"I wouldn't go that far," Akiteru hedges, "but you were a household name, and the team really relied on you."

Udai lets out a huff of laughter as a teasing refrain enters Akiteru's head. "You know, back then I thought I was good too." Akiteru's brain goes silent as Udai's face darkens. 

It's never truly silent in the middle of a crowded stadium, but there's an ease in the environment that Akiteru hasn't experienced before. He looks over at Udai far more often than is strictly acceptable between long lost acquaintances, soulmate status or no, but the game is exciting enough that Akiteru tears his eyes away from the man cheering for the opposite team just as much as he's rooting for his alma mater. 

In the end, Hinata collapses from fever, Kei gets carted off the court with a leg cramp, and Udai's hand is just millimeters away from Akiteru's on the railing as Karasuno lines up in dignified defeat. There's a wistful expression on Udai's face as he looks over a rapidly emptying volleyball court, and it doesn't take much for Akiteru to guess that he misses the volleyball court in a much different way, now that he's aware that he's left a pretty big legacy. 

Akiteru watches Kei limp through shaking the opposing team's hands as Tanaka says, "If Shouyou hadn't seen you on TV that day, he never would have gone to Karasuno and met Tobio. They wouldn't have come here." 

Akiteru makes a mental note to give the boy a hug and a large portion of meat once he's no longer contagious. 

Udai beams at the sentiment. "I think I created a monster. I kinda like that." When he turns to face Akiteru, the taller man can't help but smile back. 

* * *

It's Tanaka's idea to go to a bar. Udai gets nominated for picking the spot that's easiest on a university student's wallet, all while Akiteru silently plots on how to drum up the courage to confess to his soulmate. Sake inspired or not, anything had to be better than the worst part of high school limbo that Akiteru had hoped he'd left in the past. 

After they shuck outerwear and situate themselves around the table that Udai picks for them, Tanaka sits down on the opposite side of the table from Akiteru. Udai takes a seat directly beside Akiteru, close enough to fully invade his personal bubble all while being far enough away to not arouse suspicion from passers-by. He stiffens at the proximity — he has gone from believing he's never going to see his soulmate again to sharing drinks with him, sharing an almost intimate space. 

After their food and drink orders are placed, Tanaka leans over the table, rests her elbows on the surface, and cradles her chin in her hands. "You two are chummier than I remember in high school." 

Akiteru is surprised enough that he looks between Udai and Tanaka several times as his heart clenches in panic at having to explain the situation. Judging by the horribly amused smile on Tanaka's face, his internal dilemma has seeped out into his facial expressions, and only worsens the experience. He needs to work on getting his poker face back, he decides. 

Before either Akiteru or Udai can answer, drinks arrive. Udai takes a large sip from his beer glass, and answers, "He's my soulmate." 

The pulse in his ears and the memory of crying at the bar after Kei's win against Shiratorizawa makes Akiteru want to drown in his own mug of beer in front of him. Instead, he chugs down half his drink in one go to try and hide the blush creeping up his neck and forget that particular episode. It's clear that Tanaka has not forgotten, as she laughs at his extreme discomfort. 

He feels a hand steady on his knee, and when Akiteru finally sets down the glass, he sees Udai's neutral expression except for the questioning eyebrow. 

Akiteru places his hand over Udai's and gives a reassuring squeeze, but doesn't let go. He never wants to let go. 

A few more moments, and the food arrives. Udai deftly moves food from the central plate to his own, Akiteru stumbles with his chopsticks, unwilling to free his dominant hand in order to eat properly. Tanaka laughs at him, and he isn't quite sure whether it's from missing his mouth for the fifth time in a row because he's not used to using his left hand, or because he's too stubborn to let go of Udai's hand, but he's content to ignore her as she turns her attention to Udai. 

He only hears snippets of their conversation, as he makes an effort to get his food to his mouth. What he does hear is the standard catching up of distant acquaintances, and vague reminiscing about their high school experience. It's generic, and despite Tanaka's reaction before, it's clear that Akiteru has no reason to become jealous. 

By the time that Akiteru finally cleans his plate, he looks up to notice the food is gone, and there's a lull in the others' conversation. Udai looks at him hungrily, enough that Akiteru's skin feels both overheated and chilled at the same time. 

The smaller man leans in to whisper, "My place isn't far from here, if you want to come over." 

Before Akiteru can respond, Tanaka lets out a loud laugh. "You two should get a room." 

He lets out the small breath he had been holding, and Akiteru absently places a few crumpled bills in the middle of the table. He directs Tanaka to finish paying for the food out of the bunch, and proceeds to push Udai towards the door. His stomach is still not satisfied from what little food he had managed to eat, but Akiteru's now sure that his body isn't craving nutrition, it's yearning for the other man now pulling him outside. 

The intensity that made Udai famous in Miyagi high school volleyball returns with a vengeance, and Akiteru struggles to keep up with the punishing pace that he sets at a simple power walk. Udai deftly weaves through the crowd, and given the option of letting go of the other man's hand or bumping into unsuspecting passers-by, Akiteru will gladly take the dirty looks levelled in their direction as he jostles nearly everyone they pass on the sidewalk. There's a thrill that he hasn't felt since high school, and it only intensifies as Udai winds his way towards a small building with a heart pounding soundtrack punctuating every step.

He only drops Akiteru's hand when he comes to a door halfway down the second floor balcony in order to fumble with a set of keys. The twinkling of metal hitting metal is punctuated by soft curses muttered under Udai's breath, until he drops the entire lot on the floor. Akiteru leans down to pick up the offending objects, and time slows as he takes in Udai's flushed face. 

Finally, the door opens, and before Akiteru can even think about taking off his shoes in the genkan, Udai kicks the door closed behind him and pulls the taller man down in a searing kiss. He shouldn’t be surprised, but he is. Akiteru’s hands pause in midair before he settles on steadying himself on the door and winding his fingers through Udai's long hair and cradling his head. The ever present guitars feel  _ right _ in his brain, and the lingering anxiety leaves him gradually as he takes in the sight and smell of Udai beneath him.

Akiteru doesn't have long to savour the contact before Udai snakes his hands underneath his shirt, blunt nails scraping against skin as he removes the jacket and shirt in a swift motion while he kicks off his shoes. Just as he gasps at the remnants of cool, winter air biting at his skin, Akiteru looks back at Udai just as his pants land on the genkan’s step. The music takes on a mischievous, fun tone, and the gravity of their current situation is enough to make Akiteru’s already tight pants almost unbearably so.

Udai moves to pull Akiteru back into a searing kiss, but the outside, chilly air and the cramped entryway pulls him to the present, and he rises to his full height. 

“Not here.” He’s surprised that the words come out of his mouth semi-coherently, and he mentally pats himself on the back as he catches his breath. 

The music retreats in his brain, allowing Akiteru to nearly hyperventilate in peace.

Udai bites his lip for a moment, but that is the only reprieve Akiteru gets as he gets pulled with more force through the space than he ever was through the streets of Tokyo, on their way to Udai’s shoebox of an apartment. A dozen steps later, Udai spins Akiteru around and softly pushes him backwards. The spin is just enough to unbalance Akiteru, and as the back of his calves make contact with Udai’s tiny bed, it takes everything within him not to crack his head open on the wall behind him.

A sheepish giggle escapes from Udai, and it’s Akiteru’s turn to chase the giddiness that he knows both their faces share by pulling Udai downwards into a slow, unhurried kiss that ignites his blood as if it were comprised solely of gasoline. The music returns with a vengeance, and it’s less electric, and more acoustic — not unlike some of his own favourites from high school, sappy lyrics and all. If it was meant to calm Akiteru, it doesn't work, as it just feeds the hunger cooling deep within his gut. 

His head spins as Udai’s knees take their place on either side of Akiteru’s hips, and the pressure within his jeans as Udai settles in and brushes his impossibly hard cock in ineffectually teasing ways is enough that Akiteru wants to push him off, if only to get relief from his confinement and have a chance of lasting long enough not to be an embarrassment.

With a teasing roll of hips that makes Akiteru throw his head back dangerously far, Udai braces himself on Akiteru’s thighs and gracefully hops off his perch. He watches as Udai rustles through his nightstand drawer looking for something, and when he emerges a few seconds later, Akiteru’s suspicions are correct; he spots a half-used bottle of lube and a condom haphazardly thrown so that they are barely within reach of his hand. Finally, Udai’s hands slide underneath his waistband, an invitation for Akiteru to lift his hips and spirits and lay himself bare before his soulmate. His freed cock stands at attention, ready to worship the man before him. Udai’s underwear joins Akiteru’s on the bedroom floor, and any lingering doubt of this being mutual goes out the window as Udai retakes his perch across Akiteru’s lap.

Udai reaches around and lines up Akiteru’s cock so that it slides between his ass cheeks, and rocks against the firm length. Akiteru wants nothing more than to rest his head against Udai’s shoulder and ride out the sensations as he thrusts upwards while the hot man in his lap pushes downwards, but Udai has other ideas in mind. He steadies Akiteru’s chin with his hand, resting his forehead on the other’s, and Akiteru has the distinct feeling that Udai can see into his deepest, darkest thoughts. The music in their brains sets a slow, easy rhythm, and as Udai languidly rocks along Akiteru’s lap, the taller man surges upwards in order to capture him in a kiss.

His movements are slow, but they are also merciless with how overwhelmed Akiteru is at the sensations he feels. It takes everything in him to remain upright, keeping up with the heavy guitars, keeping time with every second beat. The English lyrics don't fully register in Akiteru's brain, but by the time they finally do, Udai pushes him backward onto the bed, the moment full of meaning. Akiteru is just happy he's not the only sap in this relationship. 

He reaches over Akiteru for the condom that had shifted just out of reach, and the lessened contact makes the taller man want to cry. The feeling goes away immediately as soon as Udai rolls it over Akiteru's cock, and the touch ripples pleasure throughout his body. He stops the smaller man as he opens the lube once again, and instead, dobs a generous amount on Akiteru’s fingers, leaving him to spread it evenly between them to prepare. 

Akiteru lazily draws circles around Udai's hole, and he's pleased to discover that it doesn't take much effort for a finger to sink in further than expected. As he circles his finger experimentally, Akiteru realizes that if he goes slowly, Udai can accommodate more than just fingers, and his cock twitches at the realization. Judging by the mischievous glint in Udai's eyes, he's drawn the same conclusion. 

He's effectively done no more than spread the lube around, but Udai bats Akiteru's hand away as he lines up the cock's head, and slowly sinks down. The tightness nearly overwhelms his senses, and Akiteru has to conjure images of his middle-aged boss in order to not blast off immediately. He really only has his hand with which to compare his experience; the reality of his situation is so much better. 

It's agonizingly slow progress, but as much as Akiteru wants to thrust up to the hilt, he settles at gripping Udai's hips until he's sure that there will be bruises tomorrow. 

"It's been a while," Udai explains, his voice breathy with pleasure and effort. 

Akiteru's disappointment that Udai didn't wait for him like he waited for his junior is interrupted by the pressure and wiggle of his ass making full contact with his lap. 

He wants to reach up and pull the man on top of him downwards, as Udai leans backwards and steadies himself using Akiteru's knees. He nearly sits back up, but at Udai's withering glare, he contents himself with running his hands along the exposed skin he could reach. Udai's long hair gives him a wild look as he rocks his hips against his. 

Akiteru finally understands Udai's pushiness when he leans back enough to angle himself so that the taller man brushes up against a firmer spot, leading to a loud groan that fills the room. When Akiteru thrusts upwards, Udai curls his fingers around his handhold on Akiteru's knees with a vice-like grip with enough fingernails that makes the taller man arch his back. 

The telltale pressure that builds low in his groin grows, and he babbles, "I can't hold on, Udai--" 

With a growl, Udai grabs Akiteru's hand, and roughly places his fingers over his cock. "Call me Tenma." 

At this command, Akiteru breath hitches as he starts stroking while Udai speeds up. It takes everything within him to time his thrusts to his strokes, but judging by the look of utmost pleasure on Udai's face, he's doing something right. As much as Akiteru wants to savour the moment, seeing Udai wanton and undone is enough to bring him over the edge.

Akiteru's vision temporarily goes black as he pumps his hips shallowly and erratically, spilling into the condom. He does his best to maintain some semblance of a rhythm with his hand but it's enough. Before long, Udai paints his chest with hot, white streaks that cut deep enough to hit Akiteru's soul. When he's finally able to open his eyes, Akiteru is greeted with Udai softly smiling at him, still sitting on his softening cock, and for once in his life, things feel complete.

It's uncomfortable and he's oversensitive, but Udai lifts himself off Akiteru's lap. As he searches for something in the slightly messy room, Akiteru takes the opportunity to tie off the condom and aim it at the garbage can across the small room. He's only half successful — instead of a graceful arc, where it lands neatly into the bin, it bounces off a haphazard pile of sketchbooks double stacked on the bookshelf behind it. He can kind of see the outline of where lube hit the metal spiral bindings, and it's enough for Akiteru to let loose a small, nervous giggle. 

Udai returns with a ratty t-shirt before too long, and before long, he cleans up Akiteru's chest just enough that he won't get cum all over himself as they cuddle. Using the taller man's shoulder as a pillow, Udai wraps himself around his warm body. Akiteru finds a way to hold him even closer. 

He traces small circles into Udai's (Tenma, he has to remind himself) back, comforted by the fact that Tenma has sprawled possessively enough over him to function as a human blanket. His body still hums with excitement — unlike Tenma, who dozes in his afterglow — and Akiteru barely contains the high-pitched, happy sounds threatening to escape his lips. He settles for a wide, close-mouthed grin instead. 

Just as Akiteru's eyelids begin to droop with the adrenaline rush finally leaving his body, Tenma stirs on top of him. 

Wiping away the drool that had begun to pool at the edge of his lips, Tenma blearily lifts his head, and softly utters, "What?" 

Akiteru lets out a snort of laughter. "It feels like a dream, that you're actually here." 

He throws his head back, the butterflies in his stomach that have settled there, and a full, wide smile finally escapes in pleasure. He can't pinpoint whose brain is generating the music, but it doesn't matter — Akiteru drowns in serendipity and good fortune. 

It's Tenma's turn to laugh. "If only I could have dreamt how long I was a complete dumbass." 

Akiteru tilts his head downwards until he's sure Tenma's only view of his face involved an unflattering triple chin. "You're a dumbass, I'm a coward; I think things even out."

Tenma props his chin on his hands, his eyes gaining the same intensity as the one he wore on the court that makes Akiteru weak at the knees. 

"You're a coward? When  _ did _ you figure it out?" 

Turning his gaze away from Tenma, Akiteru grimaces. "Heh, I figured it out early in my second year. I roofed you, and the emo music turned into death metal in a flash." He catches Tenma's knowing smile out of the corner of his eye and returned it with one of his own. "You really were an angsty teen." 

Tenma's eyebrow quirks upwards, disbelieving with a touch of incredulity. "Like you have any room to talk. After Spring High preliminaries in second year, it was all acoustic whiny shit, and it was the same twenty songs, over and over."

Akiteru's eyes widen, and he pulls the pillow from underneath his head, and tries to smother himself with it in embarrassment. "Don't remind me. It's only just started to resolve itself, years later."

Tenma manages to lift the bottom edge of the pillow despite Akiteru's iron grip on the fabric, enough that he can shuffle upwards to bring him into a kiss that was at odds with the intensity of his gaze moments before, soft and caring. Akiteru's hold loosens on the pillow so that he can caress Tenma’s face, before breaking the kiss to lean upwards into the smaller man's shoulder. 

"I don't want to go back to work," Akiteru whines. 

At this, Tenma's eyes flash with an idea, and he gracefully runs toward the genkan, leaving Akiteru confused and bereft of Tenma's warmth in the lingering winter chill. When he returns short moments, it's with his phone. 

"I got a job in my field, and it's easier when starting out to live with my parents, so it should only be a couple of months. It won't be permanent." Tenma hands over the device, and Akiteru's heart swells until he feels like he could cry. It's when Tenma's hand swipes over Akiteru’s wet cheek that he realizes that the impending temporary goodbye affects the shorter man just as much. "I'm not going to let you get away again if I can help it." 

Teary as it is, Akiteru smiles at the thought.

* * *

He's going through the warm-up drills at his tournament when he hears the heart-pumping music in his brain. Akiteru turns towards the spectator area, where he finds Tenma leaning back into his folding seat. His long hair was tied into a messy, low bun at the nape of his neck, and the bags under his eyes are visible even from across the gym, but Akiteru is happy that he finally left the cave where he slaves over manga panels for hours on end. 

Akiteru calls out in his direction, "We better not lose because you're here." The wide smile on his face makes it clear that he's mostly teasing. He hasn't forgotten that the last game they watched together, Kei ended his run at nationals. 

As Tenma childishly pulls down his eyelid and sticks out his tongue, Akiteru hears the grumbling start from Akaizawa. "Stop flirting with your boyfriend and get your ass into line. Game's about to start." 

Akiteru coyly waves back at Tenma. 

"Not my boyfriend, he's my soulmate." 

He ignores Akaizawa's curses about lovestruck idiots under his breath as he gets his game face on, ready to play. 

They end up losing the game, but Akiteru wins in the end, as Tenma links his fingers with his. 


End file.
